


so long lives this (and this gives life to thee)

by Star_on_a_Staff



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 50 percent of writing this fic was reading the official Fodlan timeline, Angst, Azure Moon ending, Descendants - Freeform, Essays, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future, Gen, Generation Gap, Historical Records, History, Like waaaaaay post canon, Museums, Next Generation, Poetry, Post-Canon, Songs, Songwriting, Speculative Lore, The Library Song, Time Skips, Timeline, and looking up how musuem exhibits work, kill me, no beta we die like Glenn, trying to figure out how birthdays work, while the other 40 percent was doing math
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-24 20:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_on_a_Staff/pseuds/Star_on_a_Staff
Summary: "Years later, Annette threw herself into songwriting, and with the support and encouragement of her husband, she produced melodies that remained popular for generations. The lyrics became distorted over time, however, and the original meaning of the music was lost."Or; an exploration of Felix and Annette's canon ending, AKA The Library Song through five centuries. A historical speculative work. Felix/Annette, waaaaaay post-canon and then just a little bit.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	so long lives this (and this gives life to thee)

**Author's Note:**

> I...began this fic thinking it was going to be easy fluff!  
> Then I realized I had to do math. And RESEARCH. *shudders* 
> 
> But I had fun with this, so I hope you have fun reading this as well! Can you believe this is my 20th Three Houses fic already?? I think I'm obsessed. o.O
> 
> Title is from William Shakespeare's 18th Sonnet because it's literally the Library Song in this fic. I'm not being basic, stOP IT-
> 
> Also AO3 can and will fuck up my carefully planned Word formatting and I'm too sleep-deprived to fix it atm so I apologize in advance if everything is unintelligibly squished or if something is too many spaces to the left; sometimes it be like that

_Years later, Annette threw herself into songwriting, and with the support and encouragement of her husband, she produced melodies that remained popular for generations. The lyrics became distorted over time, however, and the original meaning of the music was lost._

* * *

i. (An summary from an university student’s paper, Imperial Year 1690)

Tamina Riegan

Professor Cezanne Eisner

LITR 376-B

2 Harpstring Moon, Regnal Year 504

_The Exploding Library_ : An Analysis

There were few late 12th century folk songs left untouched because of the Flame Emperor’s War that wracked the continent during this time. The destruction of public properties such as libraries and record halls could account for the brief period of literary silence that lasted from 1181 to 1186, and the works that did surface after the war’s end remained haunting and elegiac in nature. However, one song stands out as being almost morbidly cheerful, perhaps written as satire in response to the tumultuous political reshuffling that occurred during this time. Though definitely not the darkest of the poems that originated from this time period, this poem is unique in that it was presumably written almost directly or perhaps even during the Flame Emperor’s War, which is a rarity considering that most historical or poetic records were lost during these five years. The author of _The Exploding Library_ , whose name has been lost, employs a free rhyming scheme to describe the destruction of a library as seen below:

I just love to cleanse/

Cleanse the library room/

It takes only a flash of light/

To make it all disappear/

A flash and then a bright light/

Suddenly I've finished/

How well I have done/

Who says cleansing isn’t fun? (pg. 17)

This poem illustrates the simplistic free rhyme of a children’s ditty, as well as the carefree nature of an uninhibited soul perhaps drunk on power. The deliberate use of such a childish perspective, or as childish as the translation allows, drives home the satirical nature of this poem even further, revealing to the reader what the horror of war truly is; senseless destruction of precious public property and knowledge during a vindictive feudal war derived from the senselessness of personal grudges and revenge.

Professor’s Note: _Well written, Tamina. Your translation is very clean and accurate; however, “cleaning” would be more contextually accurate than “cleansing”.  
_

* * *

ii. ( _Great Tree Moon Lullabies: A Collection_ ; author’s preface. Imperial Year 1590.)

Dear reader,

Ten years ago, when I became pregnant with my first child, I began compiling these nursery rhymes and lullabies in anticipation of her birth. I did not intend to write a dull anthology that only dusty old men would want to pore over; I simply wanted to find the sweetest and merriest of Fódlan’s lyrics and compile them in one place for future reference. When my daughter was born, imagine my delight when she fell easily asleep to lyrics and music penned nearly six or seven centuries ago. Later when I published the first edition of _Ethereal Moon Lullabies_ , I was beyond humbled to receive such clamorous demands for a follow-up collection of lullabies and nursery rhymes. It seemed only fitting to publish this book on the 400th anniversary of the Flame Emperor’s War.

In contrast to _Ethereal Moon Lullabies_ , this second collection I began compiling with the theme of spring in mind, as indicated by the title. As avid readers of my works will know, I am greatly biased towards the poems of a certain late 12th century author, whose name has been lost to time but who historians have dubbed The Library Poet due to the endearing charm of her most famous poem, The Exploding Library, which is on page 17 of this edition if my editor and husband adheres to my wishes. This is the poem that my daughter and later her younger siblings have always favored; I confess that I share their favoritism for a variety of reasons too numerous to name, therefore I shall only briefly state that I used this poet’s characteristics of mischief and cheer to dictate the choice of poems for this second collection. In conclusion, I thank you for picking up my little book and pray that you and your family take comfort in the spring joys of Great Tree Moon Lullabies.

~Lady Viola Ubert Dominic, Regnal Year 504 

* * *

iii. (A letter from a daughter to her father, Imperial Year 1490)

To my dear brother Rhodon;

Please rest assured, brother, that I am safe and well as I write this letter to you. You needn’t worry yourself about my safety. Unlike some of my peers, I have been lucky enough to have escaped from the fires with only a few scratches and light burns. My main cause of sorrow is actually the destruction of the museums and record halls; many precious exhibits, mostly old books and flammable tomes, have been completely destroyed. The few books that did survive have been so severely damaged that only a few of the most centermost pages are barely legible. The tomes with gilded covers suffered the most due to the heat of the fires melting the gold and ruining the fine calligraphy of the interior pages. My heart bleeds to see so many of our favorite storybooks and academic works, many of them written by our close friends of old, blackened beyond recognition. Do you remember Annette’s songbook, brother? Every copy has been razed. Only a few pages of its original remain intelligible. Do you remember when she first published this book, and it rose to such lengths of fame that we could scarcely walk a few feet into town without hearing children singing her ditties? I still hear mothers humming those nostalgic tunes to this day. I long to republish the songs that survived the fire under her name to restore some of her legacy to its original fame, as her husband would surely want, but I know that you will simply scold me again for clinging to the past and meddling in affairs that aren’t ours. Allow me to disobey your wishes just this once, brother. Please let me, at least for the sake of her and the others’ memories. It would ease the guilt and weariness of my heart. In the meantime, I await your response as ~Your humble sister, Leanne 

* * *

iv. (Selections from the Fhirdiad’s Museum of Historical Artifacts’ most popular exhibit, Imperial Year 1390)

_The Reign of the Savior King: The Dawn of a new Fódlan_. Preserved and developed by the royal family of Blaiddyd, the pieces in this collection include five oil-on-canvas paintings, nine carven stone effigies, and exquisite replicas of Hero’s Relics and other notable artifacts used by the King’s Lions during the Flame Emperor’s War at the end of the Imperial Era.   
  


Ignatz Victor (b. 1163)

 _Lions of the King_ , 1191

Oil on canvas

An anniversary gift to King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd on the fifth year of his reign.

(The most popular painting in the exhibit, it depicts the original eight members of the 1180 Blue Lions, assembled around the Savior King in formal attire. The Savior King is seated in the center on a throne of silver, with his queen the archbishop standing by his left with the royal prince in her arms. The Shield of Faerghus stands on his right, with his wife Duchess Fraldarius on his arm. The brilliance of her smile contrasts sharply with the sternness of her husband’s face.) 

Life-size replica of The Lance of Ruin

Crafted by Donovan S. Gautier (b. 1209) w. Marius G. Fraldarius (b. 1208) 

Black-sand steel infused with magic to mimic the original weapon’s movement

Originally built as a decoy weapon to fool thieves from Sreng

 _Creator’s Note_ : When I was a child, my great-uncle allowed me to inspect the Lance of Ruin closely. I was both sickened and awed by the Relic’s twitching blades. How can a weapon be so organic and dead at the same time? If I had more time, I would’ve devoted many more hours tracing the strange crevices in the original lance’s fullers, marveling at the eternal mysterious origin of these strange, Goddess-blessed weapons.

(P.S. I thank my close friend Marius for his assistance in the sorcerous infusion of this replica.)   
  


_Songs by Annie_ ; A first hand copy of Lady Annette Fraldarius’ original songbook

First published in 1195

Exterior: Leather cover hand-painted with gold leaf

Interior pages: Vellum with oak gall ink  
  


 _Note from Prof. Angeline Molinaro_ : These songs and melodies are familiar with Faerghus’ citizens everywhere, and yet not many people realize that these tunes were penned by the Lady Annette Dominic Fraldarius herself, an original member of the King’s Lions and co-restorer of the Fraldarius territory. Her work as a diligent and determined leader could not be more highly lauded, but her songwriting most definitely reflects her enduring cheer and charm. The catchy rhythm of her score, paired with lyrics that reflect unusual word choice and free rhyming schemes, is one of the main reasons for her songs’ lasting popularity. We must thank her husband, Duke Felix Fraldarius, the Shield of Faerghus, for his encouragement that she publish these songs, as well as their granddaughter Alexandra Gwendolyn Fraldarius for producing copies of these songbooks early on to ensure that they would not be stolen by thieves or time. Without them, we would have lost a major part of our Kingdom’s culture.

* * *

v. (In the depths of a forest on Fraldarian territory, Imperial Year 1290)

The thief’s breathing was ragged and desperate, her feet slipping in the dirt as she tore through the muddy underbrush. Her knuckles whitened around the strap of a bulging leather knapsack, her hands still covered in her band leader’s blood from when he had shoved the sack into her fumbling hands moments earlier.

“What’s inside this sack is worth more than your entire miserable life.” He had snarled at her, blood frothing from his lips as she trembled at the sight of his furious, hateful face. “Get it back to the camp or I’ll whip your hide in the afterlife, you hear me?”

She hadn’t understood the implications of his command until the piercing note of a silver whistle tore through the night like a shooting star, only to be answered with a resounding chorus of other bright-throated hunting horns.

Her pursuers are clearly anxious to have their possession back. Whatever is inside this knapsack, it must be valuable indeed. It could feed their entire band for a month, perhaps two if they ration it. The thought of a hot, juicy leg of meat made the thief’s stomach rumble plaintively, and her feet stumbled in the thick twisted growth of the forest floor. She cried out in surprised pain. 

A fierce female voice called out a frighteningly close distance away. Someone was _above_ her. “Over here!”

The thief let out a panicked whimper and sprang up like a startled deer. Her feet flew over the ground like she had wings, the knapsack thumping painfully against her calves. Her heart beat so hard that it made her chest hurt, her ribs hurt, her _head_ hurt…

She hurtled straight into an outstretched arm lined with muscle.

“Caught you, thief.”

The thief screamed and kicked her feet in terror as the young man lifted her off the ground easily with one arm, shining a bright ensorcelled hand into her face. His grey eyes widened in shock. “Why, you’re just a kid!”

“Even children can commit atrocities, Lonato.” A woman, her voice as serene as a frozen lake, spoke from high above the thief’s head. The little thief nearly shrieked in terror again; a huge jet-black wyvern was staring straight into her eyes, its nostrils flaring in and out as it breathed directly into her face.

The woman’s eyes didn’t leave her face. Her lined face was impassive as she ordered, “Search the bag.”

The thief didn’t fight back when the man gingerly pried the knapsack from her stiff fingers. He set her down; she didn’t dare to move with the great black wyvern and the woman’s eyes focused on her at the same time, so she stayed perfectly still as he rifled through the knapsack’s contents.

“Aha!” His face shone through with relief as he lifted out a worn leather journal as reverently as he would hold up a newborn infant. Its gilded cover glittered dully in the moonlight, and the thief felt great disappointment sweep through her like a tidal wave. All of that running and chasing for an old _book_?

The woman on the wyvern exhaled quietly, her entire back bowing as she rested her head between her wyvern’s horns. “Thank the Goddess.”

The young man replaced the book into the knapsack with the same reverent care as earlier and turned to look down at her. Though his mouth is turned down, his grey eyes hold a kindly light. He can’t be much older than her. “Now why would a little grave robber like you try to steal this of all things? Aren’t there far more interesting valuables in a noble’s treasuries?”

“I—” The thief swallowed. “Gor—Goron told me to take it and run. I didn’t know it was a _book_.”

The woman frowned. “Goron?”

“She must mean the one you stabbed.” The young man supplied helpfully.

The woman winced. “Ah. Him.”

“I don’t understand.” The thief rasped. Her throat hurt from screaming. “He said that it was supposed to be a priceless treasure, something very valuable. He didn’t say it was just a book.”

The woman laughed. Despite her appearance, she had a surprisingly beautiful laugh, golden bright like a sunbeam. “My child, this book is indeed very valuable. Your Goron was sharp to have chosen it out of the hundreds in my libraries. I would’ve paid a king’s ransom to have it back.”

“It’s just a _book_.” The thief repeated, feeling stupid and sluggish for it. But she still didn’t understand.

Her eyes twinkling, the woman held out her hand, and the man with the kind grey eyes handed over the knapsack at once. She took the journal, and flipped to a page deep within the center.

The woman read aloud, in a suddenly very different voice, “ _All it takes is a great big light, and then it all goes boom. A flash and then a big boom, suddenly the deed is done_ ~”

“ _What a great job I did…who says cleaning isn’t fun_!” The thief finished in horror, falling to her knees. “Oh Goddess, this is—this is—”

“Duchess Annette Dominic Fraldarius’ personal journal, yes.” The woman closed the journal and handed it back to the man with the kind grey eyes. “I am proud to call myself her granddaughter, Xandra Eponine Fraldarius.”

The thief clutched her middle. “My grandpa named me after her.” Her words came out as a sob. “She was my hero.”

“Oh, Goddess.” The young man said with mingled sorrow and amusement. “You didn’t even know which house you were robbing?”

She shook her head violently. “Goron just said it was some noble’s, he didn’t say _whose_ , but if I’d asked he would’ve beat me again—”

“Annette.” The duchess said gently, so different than that ferocious cold-eyed woman from moments ago. “Is that your name?”

The thief wiped furiously at her eyes and triesdto tug her ragged dress further down her knees. “Yes, ma’am, but people call me Annie.”

“Well then, Annie.” The duchess smiled at her. “Would you like a hot meal and a place to sleep for tonight? In the morning, I would like to hear more about how your grandmother and your life.”

“But—but—” Annie stammered, “I just stole from you! I could be lying to you! Are you just going to let me into your castle just like that?”

“You’ve already been under my roof once.” The duchess pointed out merrily. “It would be remiss of me to not treat you as my guest. Besides, Lonato here would help me keep an eye on you.”

“My grandfather was a thief, once.” Lonato confided to Annie in a stage-whisper, winking. “I feel like we’re friends already.”

“Is…is it okay?” Annie asked, bewildered and wildly hopeful all at once, her hands clasped. “Is it really okay?”

“My child,” The duchess laughed, pulling her onto the saddle of her enormous jet-black wyvern in one fluid movement, “To me, if you know the library song well enough to sing it on the spot, it’s more than okay.”

.

.

.

\+ 1. (In the Fraldarius estate’s master bedroom, Imperial Year 1195)

“…”

“You should publish it.”

“You really think so? But this one is so…so…”

“It’s very you.”

 _WHACK_. “Felix!”

“Ow. It’s true though. It’ll be remiss of you not to put it with the rest.”

“Are you sure? But it’s so different from the rest! Would people like it?”

“The children like it.”

“Well, of course they like it. You made me sing it to them like every day at breakfast when they were little.”

“You enjoy it.”

“I do…”

“And I enjoy it too.”

“Hee hee, I know you do. What was it you said?”

“Annette—”

“It’s like I’m your—”

“ _Annette_.”

“Ha ha, I’m sorry, I can’t help it. Your face always turns so red when I say that.”

“It’s your fault, you know.”

“Mmm, I do know.”

“…”

“…”

“…Stop trying to distract me. I still think you should publish this one.”

“Uuuugh, you really think so?”

“Trust me on this one.”

“Ooookay, fine. Don’t blame me if this is the one that everyone forgets.”

“If I loved it, people will love it.”

“Ha ha, you sure think highly of yourself.”

“It’s not myself I’m thinking highly of.”

“ _Aww_.”

“Augh, just—shut up.”

“I love you~”

“…Love you too.”

.

.

.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> List of characters from order of appearance: (yes this is OC time and yes you can skip)
> 
> Tamina Riegan: Claude's descendant. And yes, she overspeculates just like her ancestor does.  
> Cezanne Eisner: Byleth's descendant who came from a line that took up the professor's original name. 
> 
> Viola Ubert Fraldarius: Ashe's descendant who later married a felannie descendant. She's a sweetie!
> 
> Rhodon: Can't you already guess who it is? Here's another hint: RHODOS COAST  
> Leanne: She was tired of changing names and just chopped her real name in half and called it a day
> 
> Donovan S. Gautier (S for Sylvain!) Miklan's son (who was adopted by Sylvain for Reasons I Didn't Write)'s descendant who got good at smithing. He's good friends (ahem lovers) with a felannie descendant.  
> Marius G. Fraldarius (G for Glenn!) A felannie descendant with insane magic skills with an equally appalling work ethic. He's good friends (ahem lovers) with Donovan.  
> Professor Angeline Molinaro: Dedue's descendant. She teaches at Garreg Mach and is famous for her terrible cooking and brilliant historical record keeping. 
> 
> Alexandra Fraldarius: Felannie's granddaughter, aka Xandra for short. She's the kind of woman who can brew you hot chocolate while gutting your enemies from head to toe at the same time.  
> Goron: Just an asshole.  
> Annie Portier: A granddaughter of one of the mages from Annette's battalion. She was coerced into thievery. Later grew up to be Xandra's personal spy. Related to the Gatekeeper!!  
> Lonato Ubert: Ashe's descendant. He later marries Annie.
> 
> I would like to thank Cobaltcrow, CoffeeIncluded, and Bia Pendragon for helping me figure out what to put in the museums!! I would be so lost without them, tysm guys <3
> 
> I help run a felannie server! Join us for felannie shenanigans as well as other Three Houses fun times: https://discord.gg/RfywSDH
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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